


The Son's Guide To Disappointment And Disapproval

by XExcelsior



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Angst, Conversion, Epilepsy, Fluff, Homophobia, Humour, I just randomly had this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone, M/M, Religious Themes, conversion camp, for the fans all ten of you who love this book lmao, idk what im doing ok, set in modern day sort-of??, sorry if ooc, written by a British person hmmmmn, written by someone whose only read the book once lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XExcelsior/pseuds/XExcelsior
Summary: "Carelessness... and all of my world stopped its turning, and I'm left standing in a hall, without knowledge or understanding, fighting through the territory of never kissing a boy again." (Inspired by the quote from the book)With the baby goblin on the way Mr.Henry Montague barely has time for his son's antics and as sending him on a tour alone only gave him the opportunity to embarrass his name more, Henry will give his son one more chance and try to save his damned soul.All it will take is conversion, so that he may never desire to stick his tongue in another boy's mouth again. Luckily for Monty his childhood best friend lied as an adolescent teen about moving off to do some law school...he's actually stuck with him.





	1. Own Personal Hell

Ch:1

There were a lot of qualities in Henry Montague that some found more than displeasing. He liked to drink - that was for sure, and he liked to kiss pretty boys and get off in the bathroom at home (which was the most displeasing to his family) but these were Monty's favourite things.

 _You'll end up like your older brother!_ His father had told Felicity, his sister found Monty's attraction to boys as odd as Monty found her lack of attraction to anyone. Despite the air between the siblings Monty didn't exactly want to see Felicity join him. Though, he knew she'd much prefer this place over living with a husband and having children. It was going to be quiet, lots of time to read, everybody keeping to themselves. But lots of authority. 

_Mr. Lockwood will take you there, drop you off, and check in with you weekly to report back to me. And god help me, Henry, I will know if you aren't learning, trying hard, and changing._

Henry Montague always thought the day he'd change would be the day he'd stop kissing boys, and apparently that day had come for him, claws ready like death itself. And no, he was not being 'dramatic' Henry Montague was pulled in by the scuff of his neck by Lockward, he wasn't kicking and screaming and hanging onto door frames like a pathetic child, but he was saying some rather uncomplimentary things.

'How long exactly are you going to keep me here?' He snapped,

'Your brother will start his training at four year of age,' he'd replied, Henry Montague or Monty, as everybody (aside from his father) called him, had exactly seventeen shirts and more than several pairs of bottoms stuffed into a giant suitcase. And it was all very real, and he couldn't proclaim that he'd change because nobody would believe him, because really he would be the boy who cried wolf - only the "real" wolf would be apart of the prank as well. 

'You don't mean to keep me here for four year,' Monty laughed, 'a week at most,'

'and sir thinks he can change within a week?' Lockward asked, Monty didn't know if he was asking about him or his father so he shrugged and then smiled, 'this is no short punishment, but instead think of it as class. Did your father mean to send you to class for but a day then cancel every other lesson? No, a sir must go through every class and graduate,' 

'This isn't a joke,' Monty muttered to himself, shaken to his very core, heart pounding in his chest and icy sweat rolling down his face. He looked back and forth - to the right the door which he had entered (and likely wouldn't leave through) and to the left a long white corridor - like that of a hospital. 

'I'm sure someone will explain what it is they do in this facility - I've heard it has had amazing outcomes,' 

'Well Let's hope not,' Monty replied, he knew he could probably walk out and have sex with woman and drink, two of his favourite things, but there would be a man-shaped hole in his life. 

'Well, this is where we part ways, Sir. And I will be seeing you here, next Wednesday,' Lockwood said, the last words Monty would hear him say for the next week as he disappeared through the door. Monty was half-thinking about escaping but knew his fortune hung in the balance. Where would he go? What would he do... money-less and family-less.

By gods, he missed the brilliant Percy Newton. Percy, or "Perce" Monty nicknamed him had been the closest thing to family he had, they were inseparable. And Monty wasn't going to lie - he was greedy, he tried to convince Percy to fuck school, to stay and live life on the edge and have fun, but Percy had still gone. Monty couldn't fault him exactly, he did always notice Percy's desire for music and research and he knew he'd be doing both.

Probably happier without Monty, and that was a sour thought. 

"Henry Montague?" A lady questioned, Monty pulled on his suitcase and the wheels bit at the floor as he approached the woman in white. 

"Monty," He replied, he was already thinking up every word he could stuff into a letter to his father or every swear to tell Lockward next weekend, but then an icy fear rolled in his chest at the thought of what was to come. Monty already had the burst lip but it would heal as everything healed, but his mind and the long-lasting effects of his choices would not heal. It would take even longer for the bruised ribs to heal.

"Follow me to your room, please. And accept your schedule," she held a piece of paper out and started off in the opposite direction. Monty raised his eyebrows, and read with a thirst like a man dehydrated. 

7am (which was horrifying in its self) Study time

8am Music (another horrifying thought) 

9am Breakfast 

9:30 Prayer

10am Film/Introduction

11am Therapy

12am Exercise

1pm Lunch

2pm Group therapy

3pm Film

4pm Study

5pm Dinner 

6pm Therapy

7pm Study

8pm Free Time

9pm Study

10pm Bed

"8pm is my only time where I can do anything, that's ridiculous!" Monty cried out. There was absolutely no way this could be real. But it felt very real when he stepped into his white and beige room and his suitcase stopped rolling on its wheels. His ribs ached under his shirt, demanding attention and Monty gently grasped his stomach. 

"You should be so lucky, Monty," the woman replied, "had you been my son I would not have been as kind as your father and your poor mother. They allowed you treats and money despite your attitude. Your father even allowed you to sleep with boys through your early teens, that is a treat you would not have gotten in my home," 

"A treat is one word," Monty grinned, flashing that _killer_ dimple that seemed to drop every lady and man around him, but instead the woman crossed her arms, unimpressed the way a mother is when you tell her you've cleaned your room but really you've shoved everything under the bed. "Now _what_ is the problem wi-"

"It is unnatural, Mr. Montague. Sleeping with more than one person and sleeping with someone before marriage is unacceptable. As is your frolicking with men,'

"more of a skip," Monty said, "can't see the harm in it really, if I can still populate the planet - which I most certainly will not be doing, but _could-"_

 _"_ We have a tradition that newcomers celebrate. It's called 'the good day' today is your only good day for the rest of your next four years here, Henry Montague. I'm sure you're quite acquainted with decipline. As of right now, the rules-" _oh god what a bore this woman is, and so bloody defensive. "_ You are not to have a roommate, under no circumstance will you leave the premises. There will be no sex, no alcohol, no internet, no letter writing, no attitude. You will attend every single lesson on your planner, no exceptions."

"Of course, love," Monty beamed, and she smacked him on the hand with a ruler. 

"Do not belittle me, Henry Montague," she snapped. "Get in your room. Unpack, you have half of an hour. And then it's off to film," and she slammed the heavy door behind him. _Absolute bloody ridiculousness!_ Monty thought to himself, unzipping his bag. There was no way he was going to unpack everything in as little time as half an hour, he had barely unpacked half of his bag when the door swung open again, a gust of air hitting him in the face. There stood the woman, who looked at the suitcase with disgust and shook her head, _useless_ is what her eyes told him. "Let's go, _now_ ,"

"Alright, alright, lovely. Say, that dress is rather stunning," Monty gasped, walking with her out of the door, "never noticed it before, really as a man who has _frolicked_ with oh so many woman, _even important, rich and royal woman,_ I can say none topped your very outfit. It's strong and powerful, with an air of feminity that makes your gorgeous blue eyes-"

"Shut up and turn left," she deadpanned, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him around the corner, he groaned and grasped his ribs, too much movement for his body's liking, "I will not babysit you and walk you to every class. There are signs pointing you the right way, and we'll know if you skip a single class or if you're even a second late. If I find out that happens you won't like the punishment, Henry Montague-" and she stomped off, heels clacking loudly on the porcelain flooring. 

This was ten million times worse than the tour he went on alone. Him and Mr. Lockwood. They'd read the most boring of books and Monty was dragged to the most boring plays... ever. But he'd thought of Percy Newton who had just gone to the school, and how _he_ would have enjoyed the play. Two or so years later, stood in front of this wooden door that would likely lead to Monty's own personal hell, he still pined for his best friend.

"Monty?" It was like Monty could hear him now, that same old soft voice like feathers in a pillowcase, how his name rolled off of Percy's tongue, how Monty thought Percy said his name like a magic word. "Monty?! _**What did you do?** " _Monty blinked and looked across the hall to see one Percy Newton, his face the most angry he had ever seen it.

Monty wished he could have said _hello darling_ as he usually did in that purring tone, but he stood there like a fool, mouth gaping open and eyes wider than a whisky bottle. "Perce?" Monty frowned, "are you a hallucination caused by the lack of alcohol in my blood stream, or are you a ghost coming to keep me company?"

"I'm not dead yet, Monty," Percy whispered, Monty stepped closer and prodded his shoulder, it was warm and hard and he jerked back, 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Monty asked, "you had sex with a man?" And the thought sent a sharp jab of pure green jealousy into Monty's blood stream. He thought about how they could have done _something,_ he wondered what man was better to sleep with than him? He couldn't even keep his voice fully steady.

"Oh, Gods no, Monty!" Percy replied, "It's difficult to explain. I never wanted this to happen, but we'll talk more...I'll see if I can talk to you during exercise at 12,"

"You most certainly will not, darling. We're neighbours in hell, I'm guessing you sold your soul, too," he snorted and then added, "What didn't you want to happen? To see me again? Well thanks," he knew his voice was childish and his arms crossing even more so, but confusion was filling his body and taking over the jealousy. Confusion, maybe hurt and anger...

"It's not like that, Monty. It was easier on everyone this way," Percy tried to get around him to get into film but Monty stepped back, blocking the door with his body and arms. "Monty, we're going to be late!"

"So be it. What is going on?" He demanded, and Percy Newton stared back, his eyes wide and fragile and _open_ his face was like your favourite gin, you knew what it looked like and the price, there was no confusion with it because you and it were so acquainted. "You haven't been here for years have you?" Monty asked, his voice was becoming higher, maybe even hysterical. 

"I'm sorry, Monty. Lying was easier," Monty deflated, it had to have been the two years he was supposedly having fun at the school of his dreams. And Monty knew he'd gotten in, so what had went so wrong that ended up with both of them in hell together? 

"What are they even bloody converting?" Monty laughed, because deep down Monty had always believed Percy Newton was perfect. There wasn't a single fault in his appearance nor his personality, the way he dressed, even the music he played (though it wasn't his thing) it was still so _perfect_. 

"I'm sick," Percy mumbled, and Monty stopped, arms falling from the frame of the door, and he was lax enough that Percy just nudged him out of the way and Monty allowed it. In his mind Monty yelled at himself to move but he couldn't, and Percy Newton disappeared through the door.


	2. Sex And Scoundrelism

Ch:2

Apparently the workers here had never looked through a dictionary since _this_ definitely wasn't the definition of film. He thought of the many films he'd put on to watch with Percy, mostly stuff vulgar enough to make them both wince, and make Percy blush at every sex scene. 

But this was more like a documentary that talked about God's will - and honestly? Monty knew God's will. God's will was _"Henry Montague... drink as much as you want. I've got your back,"_ Because in all of the years Monty had been on this Earth - 17, to be exact, he had _never_ gotten alcohol poisoning, and that was more of a miracle than walking on water. Of course he had been found under tables unconscious many times, and sometimes even vomit-covered - but that was more in the beginning. Even on his back he had never choked on his vomit.

He'd never been murdered whilst in bed with a man, never struck down by lightening, and if anyone needed any more evidence? God's punishment was not being trapped in here, once again he had patted the shoulder of Henry Montague and gave him back Percy Newton, after snatching him away long enough to tease him. So whilst the video boringly droned on and little children ran through grass, he tried to attract the attention of Percy.

Just like when they were back in class, Monty would always deliberately make Percy laugh. This time it was more desperation to mouth at each other...uh, not like _that_ , but just talk to each other. Sick? - what warranted as _sick?_ Everybody in this room was sick in some way, apparently. If not sick for laying with a man then what had he done? 

Monty took the book they'd given him to take notes in, the only thing in it being a terribly drawn picture of a stick man drinking, and he very slowly tore the edge of the paper. " **Sick?** " He wrote on the corner of it, and he threw it underarm like a baseball once the teacher turned their back, it hit Percy's chin and Monty had to grasp his own face to not laugh.

Gods, he felt like a giggling school girl. It was that mentality of "if you have a best friend in your class, it doesn't matter If nothing is happening, you'll both laugh anyway for no reason," but at this moment Percy didn't look like he knew what he was going to do, like some force was willing him to not be Percy Newton and Monty's own force was pulling him in. Finally, Percy won and just as Monty suspected - he couldn't satisfy his curiousity and opened it.

Something flashed in his eyes and he scrunched up the note and shook his head quickly at Monty. Something that probably couldn't be discussed here or said in one word... so Monty leaned back, sighing and sighing and yawning. 

"Monty?" 

"Mr. Montague!" Monty slammed his hand on the desk and jerked up, "If you ever fall asleep in my class again-" the teacher bellowed, when he looked around he saw the room was devoid of all students except a sheepish looking Percy. 

"Well don't put such boring bloody films on, then," See, there were many flaws to Henry Montague - that, is already known. But the one flaw which probably got him in the most trouble was the inability to have a brain-to-mouth filter. Sometimes he didn't even want to say something bad, but it was this force that dragged stupid words out of his mouth. The teacher grabbed the top of his shirt and dragged him off of the desk, "Ow - steady on, darling, damaged goods, here!" Monty gasped, gripping his stomach.

"I wonder why, Mr. Montague. And it is not 'darling' to you. It is Miss. Abraham," 

"I'm sorry for your loss," Monty blurted out,

"Monty!" Percy hissed from behind her, 

"Percy, is this devil causing you trouble? - Mr. Newton is one of our best and brightest and I will not have his curse be brought upon him by your own," she sneered,

"I'm definitely not cursed, Darling," Monty said, 

"No! He's not causing _any_ trouble. We were friends," Percy spoke loud and higher and was shifting back and forth and Monty knew he had to try his best to not talk. "I was an Anchor for him, Miss. When I had to leave to come here, well, that is how he got into worse kinds of trouble," 

"It is because your soul is still pure, Percy Newton. It is why we will not give up whilst you stay only half tainted. This devil I fear will _never_ get better, and it has only been half of a day. Now get out of here, we'll be drawing up plans for you after your therapy session," it sounded like a threat to Monty but he let Percy drag him out. 

And then Percy whacked him on the shoulder, which was surprising enough because Percy had never really lost his temper this much. "I can't help you!" Percy stressed, "there's no way for me to stop this, you're trapped here because you just couldn't stop getting into trouble," 

"I'm here because I was blowing that lad in the bathroom," Monty pointed out, "I'm almost 18 - suffice to say that was a big enough warning for Father that sleeping with every person under the sky was not going to stop," 

"did he hurt you?" Percy whispered, Monty hesitated and then gestured to his lip and Percy stepped _far_ too close to stare at it. "And What's wrong with your stomach?" Monty lifted his shirt and Percy yanked it back down, and then shook his head and pulled it back up. "Jesus Christ, Monty. Are your ribs broken?" 

"I'm still walking so probably not, Did have a little while to heal,"

"You were _worse?_ How worse?" Percy gasped, 

"I didn't know you were my therapist, Darling. Why should I be telling you when you obviously kept this place from me?" Monty gestured around and Percy shook his head,

"Monty we're late. It's fine for you since this is your first day here, but it's not mine," Percy warned, "I _have_ to go. We'll talk after," and Monty watched the curls of Percy's hair disappear around the corner. 

Suffice to say Miss. Abraham was much more nicer than the therapist he was suited up with. To be honest he scared the Christ _into_ Monty. His back was straight and he sat like he did every time his father found him doing something wrong. "Right you scoundrel. I know who the hell you are," was the first thing the therapist spoke when Monty sat down. It didn't seem very much of a god-like thing to say. "I've got a bunch of stupid questions I had my last patient write for me. First question: what compels you to drink?" 

"So this patient is a fan? Good to know," Monty muttered, "Why do you smoke? Because everybody does it and it feels good," he gestured to the pack of almost completely empty ciggerates on the man's desk. 

"You much of a sheep then, lad?" 

"Not at all," Monty flashed him his teeth, "what is the reasoning for questions?" 

"We find out why you do the things you do and I tell you how to stop being a prat," he replied, "next question - what is it about _sex_ that is so appealing. And no, don't laugh, this is what is actually written. Not wanting to tie the knot, why?" 

Now _that_ was an interesting question - so interesting that Monty had trouble not falling for the trap, he had to question himself. Was it that he wanted to experience a new person every night? A new body to explore and new personality, sex could never get _boring_ if it was like he was losing his virginity every night by jumping from person to person, experienced to beginner to _experimental_ partners. Monty loved to be surprised. "Variety," he settled on, short and sweet and not too invasive. 

"Ah, thought about it though, lad. Never really questioned why you do the things you do," the man pointed at him and nodded, "I know your types. Don't mean to do wrong just can't help yourselves,"

"sounds like me, darling," Monty agreed. _Tie the knot_ that phrase still buzzed around his head. _Sex with Percy could never be boring even if it was the same every night, because it's **Percy**. _

"what's so interesting about boys?" That was an unfamiliar tone - he'd heard the mocking tone of Felicity, the accepting tone of Percy Newton, the disgust in his fathers voice, and the disappointment in his mothers. This was like every tone he'd ever heard mixed together. Like the therapist could never even begin to imagine why, it was baffling, he was curious and maybe slightly grossed out at the thought but there on his face was an open look, like it just wasn't for _him_ but he didn't care that much. 

"Gorgeous bodies," Monty replied, "as charming as you are, as strong, hard to get them to moan openly so it's a challenge, and satisfying result when you make them cave, could go on, really," the therapist cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, Monty saw the look of _I don't get paid enough for this_ and his mouth twitched. "I also have to admit my inability to tear my eyes away from a woman's chest," and the man laughed, calming Monty's rambling and nerves. 

"And would you sleep with a man with a less gorgeous body, who is not charming or strong?" He questioned, 

"absolutely," Monty said, because as good as a toned body was beauty was beauty, really. Monty thought of Percy who wasn't _sculpted_ but never the less was made by the gods, a perfect healthy weight, not charming at all but it was fun to see him ramble. This therapy session consisted of 90% talking of sex, and 100% Monty thinking of Percy Newton. 

It seemed being parted with Percy for two years had only made his hunger worse. That wasn't good. He had nowhere to get out his sexual frustration. Not even a sip of alcohol. "It asks about your family here but unfortunately for you, lad, we already know about your father," and what shocked Monty was the tightening of this man's jaw and how knuckles were going white, Monty flinched back when the therapist moved. "Tell you what, lad, don't piss me off and I won't kill you. You can call me Scipio,"

"Right, no killing, Scipio," Monty said, though he didn't believe it. Today was going to be the longest day of Monty's entire life.


	3. Running Your Mouth

_Running_ was definitely on Monty's hate list, he could run like a Cheeta when in trouble but running for exercise? Bleh. "Percy!" Monty hissed, Percy was standing in the doorway to the exercise yard, staring around seemingly more lost than Monty. 

"Keep running," Percy instructed when he joined in on his slow jog, "anything unsavoury and they might get involved, talk quiet for gods sake," Percy was running slightly behind Monty, voice quiet and full of _apprehension_. "Epilepsy," Percy said.

"Is that the one with the seizures?" Monty questioned, weirdly enough Felicity had mentioned it on multiple occasions. "What about it?"

"Gods Monty," Percy breathed out, and Monty could hear Felicity's voice saying _god, Monty. You're so thick,_ every time he said something stupid in front of her, or Percy and her. "Me," 

"Oh...Did Felicity know?" 

"No, why?"

"Just talks about it a lot..." Monty trailed off, "is there a cure? Because, Perce, this place is not the answer. It won't work. Felicity has said it's something to do with your head,"

"My Aunt doesn't think so. We've tried everything, this was the last chance we had..."

"lie," interjected Monty, "you could have not gone,"

"that's hypocritical," Percy said, Monty opened his mouth, scowled, and then closed it again. 

"Yes, well, I certainly would have kept it from you, too," Monty lied, "when did you get it?"

 "it got really bad a year after we met," 

"Alright," Monty bit out, "whatever made you think you had to lie?" _What's wrong with me?_ Monty thought to himself, for he hadn't noticed Percy's sickness and apparently, he hadn't been trusted enough to even be told about it. How many times had Percy been close to death and Monty _not known?_ "Actually, it doesn't matter. We're both stuck in here now," _I would have told you_ Monty thought to himself. _Well, I think I would've_

"I thought your dad would have replaced you instead of facing problems by sending you to a place like _this_ ," Percy gestured around, mouth pulled down in a disdainful grimace. 

"Well, the Goblin is still young. I've got years on him and training, even if I only remember bloody quarter of it all. Father reckons he can bend me into shape as quickly as possible, if he were to fortunately drop right now, suffice to say, he'd be left with a wife, an infant son, a daughter who wants to be as far away as housewife as possible, and an embarrassment for a son. It's the perfect family," he said, sarcasm dripping heavy from his tongue. "What makes you bloody think anyone knows I'm here?"

"How is Felicity?" Percy deflected,

"She's decided she's never going to lose it. No husband, and absolutely no kids," Monty shrugged, "we still don't get on. It's absolute madness to think about someone not wanting to feel pleasure. And she wants to be a doctor, pretty sure since she's married to research on illnesses effecting your head, you'll be cured in no time. So you might as well leave right now, she'll have this sorted in the next year,"

"Amusing you think I have a choice," Percy muttered, "I'm as stuck as you are, plus we've both been booked,"

"what's that mean then?" Monty turned his head when he heard Percy snort and he glared at him, "well, beauty is better than brains anyway," he bit out, 

"Sorry. It's just, you didn't sign yourself in of your own free will, your dad signed you in. Which means you're here until he says you're not," Percy answered, "it's the same with me. I can't leave until I'm cured,"

"well they won't give you the cure, they'll just chant and throw garlic on you, gods, you'll die here," 

"Thanks, Monty," Percy said, dryly. "I forgot how bad you were at keeping your mouth shut... until you arrived here. You know, if you'd been nicer they might have taken pity on your rib cage,"

"Just some old bruising, darling. Nothing I can't handle," Monty grinned, "Now, who here is the most likely to defy the cult leaders?" 

"Monty. Do you know what will happen if you don't stop? Your brother will take over, and you'll never leave this place. Ever. He'll just leave you in here, even if you become the most holy person," Percy warned, "do you even know what's to come?" 

"Garlic and chanting?" Monty joked, though he could feel the pounding of his heart against his rib cage, "can't be as bad as being caught in the bathroom with a lad's trousers down," 

"Worse," There were many times Monty had felt as closely to "murderous" rage as he could get, without actually being a psycho. It usually had everything to do with Percy Newton and of course this was no different. He wondered what had happened whilst Monty had feasting on the greatest of sins. Monty knew he would have come to complain to Percy every day if there really was no way to avoid Percy being stuck in this place. 

"Could have been less painful for you," Monty pointed out, knowing that had come out especially wrong. 

"Just wait and see how much I can cheer you up tomorrow," Percy mumbled, and Monty kept his eyes staring ahead and didn't speak and that was the end of their talk. And the end of exercise. 

Dinner was about as awkward as you'd expect. Everybody looked at Monty and Monty didn't doubt at least _someone_ would have spread who he was, or maybe it was Percy. He probably didn't have many friends so to be seen with the new kid, Henry Montague, it was probably the only big gossip the poor sods would ever get. "So..." Monty trailed off, "what's the juiciest gossip?"

"Monty," Percy complained, "these are people's lives. Plus, you're the juiciest," 

"Steady on, darling," Monty grinned, and Percy pointed his plastic spoon at Monty, as threateningly as one could be when holding a plastic utensil, spoon, no less. "How else will we stop the boredom?" He leaned forward, head in his palm and flashing the dimples at Percy. "Fine, what's the worst you've done?"

"Nothing, Monty. I'm actually trying to get out of here," Percy sighed, "you could be out of here In a _year_ , Monty. Everyone here would give their soul to leave in one year,"

"Yes, well, no soul will just make them be put back in here. And when are you suppose to be getting out?" 

"My family haven't said," Percy clinked his spoon on his plastic plate and tried to comb back his messy hair with his other hand, _it was always so lovely unstyled, but now it looks about as drained of life as Perce_ , Monty mused. Percy all in all looked different, paler like he was sick, messy hair, boring cheap clothes, bags under his eyes, _tired eyes_. It wasn't a bad look, Monty didn't even know If Percy could have a bad look. But he was older, different.

And Monty hadn't changed. Like he'd never aged, took a dip in the fountain of youth. "I suppose I'll cause more havoc when my system realises there's no vodka in it. I'll probably get lost in here forever, like it's a maze," he joked. But it wasn't a joke. Deep down Monty feared being forgotten in this place, turning into a mindless zombie. 

"I can't help you," Percy reminded him, "I would if I could," and for once in his life Monty was not just slightly powerless, but completely and utterly underneath everyone's shoe. And he hated the idea of it. 

"I'm fine, don't worry about me, darling," but he probably still would. And for good reason.


	4. A talk with Percy

Monty hadn't gotten to see Percy until 9am breakfast. He sat at 7am, neither wide eyed nor bushy tailed with his nose stuck in a book. It would be a surprising (horrifying) thing to see if you knew Monty personally, but really Monty wasn't interested or listening to the orders of those around him. He was just trying to quiet his racing mind and delete his memories.

"How was your first day?" Percy asked at 9am, his tray slammed in front of Monty who jumped, "gods you look tired,"

"Long night," Monty grinned, "Lay and thought all night about how to get what I want," but really, when the clocks struck midnight and his first day had ended... the conversion had immediately started. "Beautiful bodies, alcohol, alcohol on beautiful bodies, gods," 

"I can't believe they think I can control _you_ ," Percy shook his head, 

"Someone will appreciate the distraction," what Monty wouldn't give for a distraction right about now, Percy was one of the best distractions but his mind kept wandering none the less. "Can't believe you haven't escaped this place before, Darling,"

"Escape? Are you mad?" Percy ripped into his bread roll and gestured around them, "there is no way out,"

"Even a cage has a way out. Plus, you're smart enough to figure it out,"

"and when's the day you're escaping?" Percy sniped back. And here they were, sniping at each other over dinner, something they hadn't done since way before he left, it must have been age 10 - the last sniping-contest they had. 

"Just sizing up the prettiest one to flirt my way out, oh I'm a _changed_ man, alcohol - the very taste knocks me ill, and I'd never lay unless married," Morty drawled, 

"Stop it!" Percy's plastic fork snapped in half at his brutal grip. There was nothing he could do, nothing to prevent Henry Montague from earning himself a one-way ticket to staying here until death. Being tortured every single day, probably twice as worst as everyone else and triple that for his smart mouth, and Percy would have to watch his only friend become a hollow shell. But how does one explain that to _Monty_ of all people. 

"You used to follow me on daring adventures, not ward me away. Roll your eyes because _oh Monty's done something stupid again, he's said something stupid again,_ I suppose you're hiding a lot," Monty grimaced and pushed around his food, thinking of rather starving to death than letting it enter his body. 

"This isn't an adventure. You're going to get us seriously hurt, or killed...gods, not like you haven't done something dangerous like this before, of course it's another adventure to you. Only this time it's dark and there's no one to save us,"

"that's why we have each other to save, darling," Monty grinned, "my darkened soul becoming pure warded away your demons, since you're so close to me," 

"That won't work, Monty. They check me every month to a couple of months, the second I show any signs of sickness I'm back to square one," Percy gripped a handful of his curls, putting the chunk of bread back onto his tray, "this place is making it worse,"

"Stress or something, didn't really listen to Felicity. Guess you better stay calm," Monty said, knowing he wasn't helping Percy's health at the moment. It made him almost promise himself to behave, but he knew he'd try, and say something stupid ...and it wouldn't matter. "You don't have to worry about me, darling. Strict orders from the father not to quote-on-quote 'break me' he needs a strong Eire physically and especially emotionally. Everything they're doing to you all won't be done to me, I'll just be riding the wave and getting yelled at. Have my wrists slapped, wearing terrible clothing and eating terrible meals and being forced to read," here Monty was, deception and lies coating his words again, he saw Percy hesitate, as if he wanted to believe every word Monty said. 

"So that boy was the final straw then?" And Monty muffled a laugh into the back of his hand,

"So bloody dramatic they all are," he said, "wasn't the first time, well, was the first for my father. But I've been naughty the past few months and it all mounted up. I should tell you about my trip, though you'll slap me one,"

"let me guess, once in a life-time adventure and you spent it unconscious from intoxication with your trousers down," Percy guessed, and Monty pointed at him, "well, what was your favourite part? I mean not to do with alcohol or sex," Monty paused, drawing his mouth down in thought.

"Took me to see that play, you wanted to go to that place someday. Hated it, but there was a balcony and the view wasn't too bad when I sneaked out onto it," because Monty would rather watch a boring sunset than watch that drab, and god, the voices were screechy. "They wanted to try to make me indulge culture, so they dragged me round half the world. Boring places, nothing fun to do. Felt like living in the Victorian era,"

Percy closed his eyes, like he was falling into a trace just at the very thought of it all, and really, Monty liked Percy's passion but he could never feel it himself. He was a firm believer in that some people like art, some like sports, some like beautiful cities ripe with culture, and some want to be the first Montague to ever die of alcohol poisoning. "We should have ran off and took over the world together," Percy grinned, 

"and now we're taking over a mental hospital full of sane people,"

"Henry?" Monty ducked his head lower, as if he expected someone he knew personally to appear over him like a demon from the shadows, some poor bastard he slept with who wanted more, or someone he stole vodka off. Instead the person tapped his shoulder and he surprised to not recognise her at all. That was probably a worse sign. "I'm so honoured to be here alongside you. You're so generous-" and at that Percy snorted loudly and covered his mouth, "helping the disadvantaged and...not so well off people," 

"Who exactly?" Monty stared, when the girl cleared her throat and for a hint of a second he saw her eyes flick to Percy he massaged his forehead, "He's not either of those things. God's," he groaned, "he's smarter, more educated, not as rich but well off, and not as nuts," he flashed her a dangerous grin and she stepped back, once, twice, and took off tail between legs.

"I don't need you to stick up for me," Percy said. 

"But-"

"Monty," Monty looked down at the food, shoved at it, and opted for eating the cookie instead. It was nearly impossible to mess up a desert, but something told me the cook had because it was unnaturally sweet, and the key to making desert was 'if you fuck it up, add more sugar,' that was Felicity's motto anyway, when she cooked one time ten years ago.

"This has got to be the first time I've not lusted for every persons attention. God's they're irritating and stupid, if anything this place will make me act out more,"

"Brainwashed," Percy corrected, and with low eyes staring around the room, slowly... slowly taking it all in. "They're brainwashed," 


	5. A moment of prayer

Monty had apparently just learned that this place was rather inclusive for a  _jail_ that didn't believe in sex before marriage or Epilepsy. Apparently, they _had_ to do their prayer time, all together silently in the hall every morning, but that he could choose any God to help him. _There are plenty of Gods, but only one Devil!_ A chipper voice had warned them at the beginning. 

Monty didn't care to fact check that. But he was quite sure there probably wasn't just _one_ devil. But at least Monty could pray to the gods of drink, money, partying, drugs, drink, sexual organs, drink,  _infidelity - which he could only pray he had._ And whichever sculpted Percy Newton in their image. 

Percy had his head bowed, eyes closed, and mouth moving silently but it was obvious he wasn't exactly praying, but rather recalling passages from his favourite books.  _Maybe I'm more than slightly obsessed with Percy Newton. God's, I'm like a clingy one night stand, only the pathetic part being I didn't even manage to get Percy's trousers down,_ pathetic indeed. 

“Mr Montague, are you even praying?” Someone snapped in his ear, Monty jolted, realising he had been staring into space and he tried to keep his mouth shut, bit down on his tongue but the words rolled out like they had a mind of their own.

”Praying to the god of Sex and drums and rock and roll,” He blurted out. A few people snickered around him, and all at once it occurred to Monty him being a bad influence would only serve for a greater punishment. He’d been ordered to stand before everyone else, and he couldn’t exactly fight the hand yanking him out of his seat. Monty tried not to stare at Percy, he didn’t want to see what lay on his face, worry, horror or perhaps a cold unfeeling look. 

And then his face had lit up, worse than any backhand his father had given him, as the person who hit him clearly did so with some sort of item, like a belt, that cut into his cheek. “Next time I’ll be sure to drag any friends up here’s to join you. And if you still persist I will have to force strangers up here as well, and I very much doubt they would be very happy with you, understood?”

”Yes,”

”I better see god reaching out for your hand in the next thirty seconds, sit down,” had Monty not been thrown into a dark hole from the hit, had not experienced the rushing of memories of his father, he might have laughed.

”You’re going to put me into a catatonic coma, Monty,” Percy hissed when they escaped out of the hall. “Not only do I have to constantly watch out for you, but I have to worry about you every single second of every day, and it’s making me ill, you’re going to set me back for months-“

”Sorry I’m such a burden on you, my dear best friend,” he snapped back, “besides, we all know you’ll be stuck here forever. There is no moving forward, you’re not going to go years without getting sick,” and every moment of every hit had fire rushing in his veins, the knowledge that Percy had lied to his face and disappeared, leaving Monty with the worst family in the world and all alone. That he hadn’t trusted Monty, that he hadn’t even tried to come up with a plan. 

“You’re such a dick, Monty,” Percy muttered, “come on... we can’t be late for film,” and no they certainly couldn’t. Though Monty kept wanting to push and toe the line, but he couldn’t deny the hesitation, the fear that Percy would be punished for his misdeeds as well. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had been punished or put in danger because of Monty’s inability to stay clear of risk. But that was when he was having fun, they would be having fun, and the danger and the risk was part of that fun - like a prize to be won.

Now it was threats of people being physically harmed, and it unnerved Monty in a way he didn’t think it would have. He never felt so tempted to follow the rules before. “Well, darling, I’m going to go mad in this blood you place. I’m sure you will be catching me drinking candle wax to substitute for alcohol, and making out with stone statues,” Percy’s mouth twitched and he lifted his hands to tighten the ribbon holding his hair out of his eyes.

”Heard you got a thumping today at prayer,” the first thing Scipio said to Monty had him huffing in amusement, the film had been as boring as you could expect, for god had healed all ailment of the boy in the film. Lot of good that would do Percy Newton.

”Twice actually,” Monty admitted, rubbing his hands where he’d gotten the strap to them, “was flirting with a rather stunning boy in film, hoping to liven up the place,” he still felt a little guilty for almost getting Percy in trouble for making him laugh as well with the up front way Monty had approached the boy, 

“So you gays do have the dar?!”

”the what?”

”the gaydar of course, lad,”

”Not quite, Darling. And I’m certainly not gay, but rather what my father would call _a promiscuous whore_ \- which is certainly a compliment. Percy, however, has a talent for spotting the sin of tonguing a lad, he can always tell. It’ll be because he grew up around me,”

”You and this Percy then?”

”Oh, god, no,” Monty spluttered, choking on the air he tried to inhale, “Perce is... well, a traditionalist. He doesn’t feel lust like every other man, but rather is seeking love above lust, why Perce will probably not even galavant on his wedding night,” _Percy’s wedding night, if I ever needed some words to turn my mood sour those would be it_. 

“And he is here for... possession. Do you perhaps blame yourself for bringing the devil to his front door, and yes kid, it does have that written here,”

”You don’t strike me as a religious, believing, fellow,” Monty pointed out, “why do you work here?”

”Good pay, and my own reasons,” Monty didn’t doubt those reasons were probably rather controversial. “The question?”

”Well, I didn’t hex Percy with a spell, and I certainly did not give him Epilepsy. I’ve quite possibly made it worse, however,” Monty couldn’t help but wonder if Percy would be better off without him. Well, he must, for he had hidden everything from Monty. “You don’t seem to like rules,  or tell me, in a place like this how the bloody hell do I fake redemption?”

”Oh lad, you’re the breaking type you are. Seen boys like you beforehand. No doubt by next week you’ll be a hollow shell, I’d eat my hat if they didn’t break you,”

”Well, that’s not the encouragement I quite need,” Monty sighed, he tugged at his pale sleeves and wondered if managing the estate would be quite as bad as this place. He’d still be able to drink just not get drunk, he could still sneak around with lads but would have to take a wife, a big breasted gorgeous woman. But he didn’t want children, no way. Monty sat here In silence, weighing up the different options he had.

”Perhaps you should rethink your strategy, eh, boy,” 

_Perhaps, so._


End file.
